Of Shoelaces and Necklaces
by miley-avril
Summary: Hook and Emma have a heart-to-heart about letting go of the past -two pasts that include heartbreak and abandonment. They choose to let go of Graham and Milah to find the happiness both know their former lovers would want them to have. Rated T for one word that's repeated about six times.


**I DON'T OWN ONCE UPON A TIME OR ITS CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO ABC. CREATED BY ADAM AND EDDY.**

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The group had decided to split up in order to cover more ground. It had been nearly a week since they made landfall, and they knew that every day they didn't find Henry, the chance that they would dwindled. Since Rumple had gone all 'Rambo' on them, Snow, David, Tinkerbell and Regina were one group while Hook and Emma made the other (per Emma's orders.) Her logic had been this: no one trusted Hook except for her, Snow and David were used to working with each other and Regina, well, Regina and Tink were on speaking terms. Regina had magic that could protect them against Neverland and Tink knew what to watch out for, so it was only logical. Well, until Regina made another 'boyfriend' comment, saying the groups were four to two. At that, Emma shrugged it off, saying no one else would listen to Hook.

And she had listened to him, alright. They were currently at one of Pan's old camps, searching for clues. The fact that they were _so close_ to Henry was maddening.

"It looks like they just left." Emma said, her eyes sweeping the forest floor, taking in all of the footprints.

"Aye, they probably did. These can't be more than a day or two old."

"Goddamnit." She muttered, resisting the urge to throw the pebble she had just stepped on.

"No need to get angry, Love. We'll get him back." He said, and he really seemed to mean it, too.

"Since when did you become the optimistic one?" She huffed, sitting down on a fallen tree. He followed suit.

"There's a difference between optimism and belief. If Henry wasn't a smart, fierce lad I'd be being optimistic right now. But from the few moments I spent with him, I gather he's too much like his mother to give up. I _believe_ in him." At that, Emma gave a humorous chuckle. The moonlight glinted off of the aglet of the shoelace, which caught Hook's eye. "Love, why do you have a shoelace on your wrist?" The blonde visibly tensed, causing Hook to flinch. It was something he was honestly curious about; he hadn't meant to hut her or push too hard.

"It's something that belonged to someone I used to know." She said around the lump forming in her throat. Her tone, low and monotonous, told him that whoever the shoelace belonged to had been important to her, one of the few people she ever cared about.

"When I said perhaps I would like to get to know you, I meant it." He said softly. Emma wasn't sure if it was the soothing tone of his voice or the blueness of his eyes, but her walls came tumbling down.

"His name was Graham." She closed her eyes briefly, willing the tears away. "I only knew him for a little more than a few weeks, but he was one of the kindest, most honest people I have ever met."

After a moment, Hook said, "And I bet he got inside those walls you have." His tone was almost bitter. Maybe the better word would have been _jealous_.

"He's also part of the reason the walls are so high." She said, toeing at the soft dirt beneath them.

"He left you?" He asked, keeping his anger at a man he never knew in check.

"He was murdered." Emma's eyes suddenly darkened, and the fury that was rolling off of her in waves scared Hook. He'd never seen her _that_ angry before, to the point where he thought she'd take it out on the closest target –in this case, him. She'd had a murderous look on her face when they'd briefly discussed how to find Greg and Tamara; Regina had a similar look, but her intentions for when she found the two had been a little more concealed. Now, though, he was thoroughly convinced she might actually punch him again. He may have thrown that sword fight, but he hadn't faked being knocked out.

"Emma, Love…" He coaxed her out of her reverie slowly, a reverie that seemed intent on keeping blind rage bound to her. Only when he gently touched her cheek did she blink.

"Sorry, I just…" She trailed off, not really knowing what happened. But she didn't need to explain. Hook understood completely.

"No, I know. It's okay." He said. "You and I, we understand each other. More so than you think."

"How so?" She resisted the urge to snort. She didn't not believe him because he was a pirate –out of everyone in their little Nevenger group, she trusted him the most –save for her parents– but because he grew up in a freaking _fairy tale_. Sure, they had the same basic principle of never letting anyone in, but still… yet, he _did_ read her like an open book, as much as she hated to admit it. He knew her every move, her every thought, sometimes before even she did.

The next think Hook said was something that surprised both of them; the words seemed to fly out of his mouth on their own accord.

"This necklace," he pulled it out from where it dangled under his shirt, "was Milah's. After she… died…" he forced the words out, "I kept it as a keepsake, a way to remember her by." He paused, gathering his courage. "This Graham fellow, you loved him?" It came out as a question, but it was more of a statement. The look on Emma's face was almost comical: her jaw opened and closed several times before she finally stuttered,

"Y-yeah. I think I was." At that, Hook looked down. Suddenly, something occurred to him.

"You two were true loves."

"What?" She gasped. His silence forced her to think. She thought about the way he made his way into her heart so quickly. The way his smile made her stomach to flip flops, something that never happened to Emma Swan. The way she laughed at his jokes, even when they weren't even in the realm of funny. The way she stomped away from Regina's house, silently declaring the reason her eyes were wet was because of the wind. The way she'd let him take care of her after the scuffle with Regina. How she made the first move and initiated the kiss –the real one. The way she'd wanted more. The way she'd felt pure happiness for the first time in years. Most of all, she thought about how bad it hurt when Graham collapsed, how she swore her heart literally stopped for the briefest of seconds. She remembered her own pitiful sobs as she screamed at Graham to wake up. Thought about the way she'd locked herself in her office when the EMTs finally arrived to take him to the hospital just so that she wouldn't have to feel their pitying stares. Thought about how, despite Mary Margaret's better judgment, she slipped into the morgue to say goodbye and how she had pressed her lips to his in one last effort to wake him up. She remembered how her roommate took care of her in small ways –like the hot chocolate waiting for her every morning or cooking her favorite meals for the next week– but never once commented on the red, puffy eyes or black circles. And when Mary Margaret had found her slumped over on her bed, silent sobs wracking her body –which Emma had only let overtake her because Mary Margaret was supposed to be out with David (apparently he stood her up again)– she simply sat next to her and held her hand.

Well, shit. The true love thing made all of that make much more sense.

"We might have been." Saying it for sure, fully acknowledging what they both had meant to each other would have been too painful. But Emma knew that Hook would know from her tone that she believed she and Graham had had true love. "But Regina, she crushed his heart." At that, Hook's blood ran cold.

"The Crocodile did the same to Milah." Was this some form of twisted, sick fate? He took in the pain on Emma's face. She had obviously cared for this Graham far more than she ever let on. He knew she hurt for him every day, just as he did for Milah.

And while it still hurt –there wasn't a day that went by without it hurting– it'd dulled down to an ache ever since… _shit shit shit shit shit_.

"Killian?" She said in a small voice. She didn't want to get too used to the name.

"Yes, Love." He had scooted closer while she'd been thinking. Their legs were touching… he held his breath.

"It's hurt less since I pulled you out of that pile of dead bodies." He would have laughed at that had it not been for what she was saying.

"Emma…" He breathed. She leaned in close. Her breath tickled his lips.

"If you don't want me to do this, just say so." She closed the distance between their lips to just millimeters, giving him time to back out if he wanted. When he didn't object, she leaned forward at the same time he did, and their lips crashed together. Their bodies were at an awkward angle since they were still sitting on the log, but neither seemed to care. Hook pulled away after a few moments, the need for oxygen becoming too much. His eyes flicked up to hers and searched. He saw nothing but happiness, so he went in again. This time, it was more frantic –not that the last one had been unpassionate. Their tongues battled for dominance and when both of their lungs were screaming for oxygen, they parted.

"Well that was unexpected." Was the first thing out of Hook's mouth as he touched his lips.

"Look, I know you have unresolved issues over Milah, but–" He silenced her with another kiss, this one quick but still full of love.

"Shh, Love." He murmured. "We've both lost true loves, but I think it's time we move on."

"I'm not getting rid of the shoelace." Emma declared in a way that was so very decidedly 'Emma', Hook laughed.

"Nor I the necklace." He agreed with a solemn nod. "But our pasts don't have to define us anymore."

"Since when were you the eloquent, deep one?" She quipped.

"One of us has to be," He shrugged, "and today it's me."

"And tomorrow?"

"Maybe it'll be you." He smiled. For the first time since Milah's passing, he was looking forward to many tomorrows.

"You know, maybe…" she pulled out the flask she knew was empty of rum –she'd finished it off the previous night. As she untied the shoelace, she chewed her bottom lip. "Putting them in here wouldn't be a bad idea. It'll be symbolic, in a way. We won't have to carry the past around with us."

"So now who's the eloquent, deep one?" Hook smirked. For the first time in nearly three hundred years, he undid the clasp on the necklace. Fighting down a surge of anxiety, he pushed it through the hole of the flask. It barely fit. Carefully, he took it out of Emma's hands, making sure his fingers lingered on hers longer than was necessary.

"To Graham and Milah."

"To Graham and Milah." She agreed with a small smile. He slipped the flask back into his jacket, making a mental note to put it in his secret drawer once they got back on the ship. And they _would_. All of them would make it back _home_ to Storybrooke, including Henry. Of that, he was sure.


End file.
